


Prologue

by MsOzma



Series: Their Revolution [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Homestuck AU, Multi, Other, Troll AU, Troll Revolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 00:30:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsOzma/pseuds/MsOzma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prologue of the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/53367">Their Revolution</a> series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prologue

There are lines of them.

Millions upon millions of grey figures pouring into ships.  Adorning their heads are orange and yellow candy corn horns—some dull as clubs, others as sharp as razors.  The retinas of their eyes glow a dark yellow; most of their irises are black.  Some say if you look closely, you can see a tint of color coming into some of them…though like most urban rumors, it is mostly fiction.  They are too young for such a thing.

Other than the wide variety of horns, the differences in sex (male and female), and the belief in the differing irises, these creatures do not appear dissimilar.  Each troll has no greyer skin than the other, no more oranger or yellower horns than the next, nothing that would appear immediately obvious to any human looking onward.  Such an ideal may seem pleasant—that a species could exist with no set differences other than horns (that vary so much among these beings to the point of it being considered arbitrary) would seem utopian in our eyes.

But of course, the rule of biology states that differences, even among the same race, will always exist.  Life cannot thrive in an ecosystem built upon similarities.  That is why these sentient beings—of more superior intelligence than us—still have differences, not always clearly visible to the naked eye.  The essence of this species’ contentions and struggle lies not in skin color, eye color, nationality, race, or even language.

It lies in something much more powerful, something that no amount of technology, intellect, or wisdom could ever change.  Though these millions of creatures may look like grey huddled masses, each one of them is unique—unique by their very blood.

While it may seem ridiculous to think that blood could differ so vastly among a species, it is something that these people have never questioned.  And if you had the nerve and gall to cut not one, but _two_ of these beings, you would immediately understand why.

Each of these creatures has different blood.  In that, one person may bleed red, and the other may very literally bleed green.

Each of them crowd into these ships, carrying a different hue to their name.  They exist in a hemospectrum that has ruled over them since they could remember.  From the poorest of reds, to the richest of violets, their position in society is determined by their blood color.  Some of them crowd into these ships, excited and giddy about the adventure they are about to embark on.  Some have the luxury of choice and well-living.  Others are born in slavery.  If there is weeping, you could guess if it is joyous or mournful, if you could slice each one open.

In this universe far removed from our own, among an alien race called trolls, there is a celebration taking place.  The Great Gathering, an event where an alien race called trolls celebrates a coming of age of sorts— “celebrate” being used in the loosest of ways—is a time where trolls—upon reaching a certain age—are loaded onto ships that pilot them far away from the planet they learned to call home.  Many of these trolls have been pre-sorted, whilst others are walking into the ships blind as to what they should expect.  Some walk into the ships, free from care or worry.  Others are merely, zombies, driven only by some instinct or a misplaced will to survive.

Such an occasion, though important for the young and old alike, is not one of significance for those that may rule over these far off spacescapes.  But this occasion, unlike the innumerable ones before it, is special, specifically for an important figure in these troll’s histories—a figure that has always existed and never died.  On this particular Gathering, the Empress that rules over these people has marked this occasion as important.  Though having built this culture in violence, caste beliefs, self-glorification, and ever-lasting conquest of the strong over the weak, Her Imperious Condescension herself has come to watch as these trolls have their fates sealed in a location far from the one in which they were born.

The Empress is of a different and distinct caliber from the trolls she rules over, not only by her title.  The most immediately obvious of those distinctions are the fins which adorn her face.  Trolls, as well as in blood color, are separated in two different races—land dwelling and sea dwelling.  The way that these two races differ can be found easily in their names—land dwellers dwell on land; sea dwellers live primarily in the oceans.  Sea dwellers can choose to live in the ocean or land, being able to breathe air as easily as they can breathe sea water, giving them options; of course, their violet blood color, being the second highest on the hemospectrum, secures them even more choices as well.  Being that sea dwellers practically rule over everything else save for the Empress, it makes sense that the Empress, with her horns pointed out and upward, would be the highest ranking sea dweller.  It also makes sense that her blood color is very different from the violet hue shared by her fellow sea dwellers.  In her veins runs the absolute richest, purest of fuschia royalty that can be seen.  Her blood color is absolutely distinct, and is just as much a symbol of her right to rule as are her sea dwelling ancestry and the symbol that adorns her imperial suit.  No one shares her blood color.

At least, not anyone important.

From a tyrian ship far above the planet’s surface, Her Condescension gazes lazily through her viewport down at the trolls below as they tread slowly into the ships, giggling every now and then as she witnesses some trolls trying to desperately run from their fate.  Running away from the ships results in instant killing, and she revels in the different shades of blood that sprinkle on the ground.  There are two blue-blooded trolls that stand guard inside her chamber, both remaining still and silent.  The Condesce pays them no mind, content to revel in watching yet another troll get pierced by bullet holes, cackling like a maniac as she does.

“My madame Condescension?” a hesitant voice speaks out, breaking her laughter.

The Empress immediately halts and looks back at the addressor, who looks scared that she may kill him on the spot.  At seeing the troll, she groans and look back outside the window, unwilling to look at her addressor. 

“What the _fuck_ is it?” she bites.

The addressor—a green blood who obviously has no business being on an imperial ship with the Condesce but was somehow swornhoggled in there anyway—seems to tremble in the Empress’ presence.  He has to take a few deep breaths before he can muster a response.

“W-well, I…” He stutters and stumbles over his words. “Um… Th-there hasn’t been any sign of the, er… the girl.”

The Condesce looks back at the green-blooded troll as if she couldn’t believe that he would take time out of her day to tell her something so stupid.  “Well fuck _OF COURSE_ she ain’t gonna be here!  What are you, some fuckin’ moron!?  She ain’t stupid enough to be carping about here, _fuck!_ ”

The troll is already cowering, covering himself with his hands.  The Empress rolls her eyes at this, and turns back around, muttering to herself, “Fuck, some people, biggest goddamn fuckin’ morons ever, I’m surround by assholes with fish brains…”

As soon as the green blood stops being paralyzed out of sheer terror, he books it out of there faster than she could ever even order him to.  The blue bloods continue to stand there silently, though one wears a confused expression on her face.  The confused one raises a hand for a second, before withdrawing a breath to speak.  The Empress, as if sensing a second interruption, groans again.

“ _Oh my fuckin’ God, WHAT!?_ ”

The blue blood, not nearly as terrified as the green blood, only flinches slightly before continuing with her question.

“If I may, my Empress…” she begins.  “If you’re certain that she wouldn’t dare try to sneak onto the ships… then why did you come here?”

At first, it seems the Condesce is sitting and pondering this question seriously, as she only sits in deep silence after she asks it.  Even though she doesn’t answer it right away, the blue blood doesn’t dare ask it again, in case it was a question she wasn’t supposed to ask, continuing to stand in silence.  It seems almost a full minute has passed, when Her Imperious Condescension zooms in on her screen to a brown-blood being mutilated by imperial guards, and begins cackling at the site. It is only then that she turns back to her blue-blooded guard, her grinning teeth sharp and jagged like a shark, and fins flared up.

“ _It’s a warning._ ”

 

* * *

 

 

> _We were no different from dogs and pigs and cows: all of us were allowed to play when we were small, but then, just before reaching maturity, we were sorted and classified.  
>  -_ Ryū Murakami,  _69_

 

 

[Reader: Begin reading PART I](http://archiveofourown.org/works/920433/chapters/1787355).

**Author's Note:**

> This is just the prologue of my larger story. I wanted it to be separate so people understood it wasn't the first chapter. Most of the tags are for the larger series as a whole.
> 
> Also, though I don't see me changing the prologue, this is a work in progress. Meaning this series is up for editing or change at any point.
> 
> WHOOPEE, IT'S LIKE READING A DIFFERENT STORY EVERY TIME.
> 
> [Read the next part here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/920433/chapters/1787355)!


End file.
